192.com is amazing!
it lets me know all the info I need for the folk in my street, so I can look them up on facebook/friends reunited/google+ etc and check out their profiles and pics
(Anne Frank started to build a loft conversion on, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 17:52, Reply)

Supposed "friends" on facebook
My Ex wife (after she decided to leave) had an incredible amount of info on my relationships post marriage, and was trying everything to annoy / harrass me after I decided to carry on with my life.

I decided to look through my "friends" to see who was still in contact with her and then fed them all the same story, but with slightly different details about what I was doing (there was something similar in a John LeCarre book). The theory being, the details she acquired would point to the culprit.

Lo and behold, a few days later I got a verbatim account via email of how I was being "unfaithful" (even though she'd already left for 6 months) and 2 separate sets of details were included...

2 very polite messages to the once trusted people telling them in no uncertain terms where they could insert their own heads and I've been left alone since.

George Smiley would've been proud.
(Darkpie 3.243F6A8885A308D31319, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 17:16, 37 replies)

IT WAS ...
THE SALMON MOUSSE ... !
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 17:15, 3 replies)

I can't lie, I wasn't quick-witted enough...
Some years ago I went for interview at a fairly large ad agency in the middle of London's Soho.

I'd prepped fairly well and was therefore feeling as confident as you can in such situations.

The interview set-up was conventional, so I was sat opposite the hiring manager and the HR manager, the three of us separated by a desk. I must admit the first half hour of the interview was a breeze. I was asked a number of standard interview questions and delivered text-book responses that got the two of them nodding and occasionally smiling. Things were going very well indeed.

All of the questions at this point were asked by the hiring manager, but when the HR manager piped up, think went downhill rather sharpish. He explained that part of their process was to ask three completely unrelated questions to see what kind of response you gave. There was no right or wrong answer, but your response would give them some insight into your personality (wanky eh?).

Questions 1: How many pigeons are there in Trafalgar Square?

Question 2: If you could appeared on the cover of any magazine, what magazine would you choose and what would the headline be?

Question 3: Complete the sentence, "Most people in the world are..."

I bluffed my way through the first two, with the pigeon question posing a bit of difficulty when my response of 'too many' was not deemed good enough.

Question 3 was the toughest though and having given it some considerable thought (during a very uncomfortable silence) I gave the answer "under-developed" and went on to link it to my expertise at getting the most out of people.

After the interview I met up with a mate and told him about my ordeal. He gave me a pat on the back for being able to come through it relatively unscathed but screwed his face up when I told him my answer to question 3.

"What would you have said then Einstein?" I said feeling hurt.

"Chinese of course".

Bugger
(BinDipper, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 16:58, 11 replies)

Supermarket Sweep
Still haven't worked out why Dale Winton (upon revealing a £25 sticker on the inflatable banana) would say "Twenty Five Pounds! Good!" because at that point £25 was the worst case scenario. £100 or £75 revealed would have been "good!" and £50 was OK. £25 revealed at that point was not cunting "good!" it was the WORST THING AT THAT TIME. What an idiot.
(byevad Bored sig:, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 16:44, 2 replies)

Pub quiz
At a pub quiz in Chalk Farm a few years back, the final result was tied between our team and the one next to us, so the quizmaster asked a tiebreaker question: "What happens if cows wander into a field where sugar beets grow?"

I'd never heard of this before, but I managed to work out the answer from first principles, and we won. The other team's answer? "They explode"...
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 16:21, 45 replies)

Sneaky punter comes in my pub trying to fuck up my shit
I used to live in a pub with my parents and worked behind the bar. One day I got a call from a pub up the road saying there was an young lad walking towards my pub (giving a full description) and he was going to try and fleece me out of some money. They went on to explain that he tries to pay with a £20 note, taking the £20 back then gives you the exact amount, then tries to pay with a tenner and as you pass his change over to him he tries to pay with a fiver, in the confusion he essentially makes off with the money you’ve taken out of the till for the change from the original £20. Confused? I was but it’s cunning.

Anyway, the little bugger struts into my pub not knowing I’m forewarned and more to the point forearmed. He orders a pint of lager and tries to pay with the £20, I smile and turn to the till, he then tries to pay with the change, then he pulls out the £10 saying he needs the extra change for the cig machine and eventually moves to the clincher move where he tries to pay with the fiver. At this point I snatch all of the money from him a punch him square on the nose. Poetry. He stands there confused as hell, his nose redder than Roy Hattersley’s, and I get to shout something I had never said before or since “get the fuck out my pub”.

One of the best days of my life. I’m a modern day fucking Sherlock Holmes. Case closed.
( The only Dave is pushing things forward, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 16:13, 78 replies)

Do wine glasses think that mirrors are aliens?

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 16:03, Reply)

When I worked in the Duty Free shop at Bristol airport, I caught a mega thief.
He came to my department (thechnology) and bought an iPod, paying with credit card. He also had tobacco but I couldn't let him buy that because of duty restrictions etc....

I offered to put the tobacco back on the shelf for him, but he was adamant he'd do it himself. Obviously being a distrustful bugger (and knowing what some sneaky bastard passengers are like), I followed him (discreetly) around the shop and watched as he cheerfully walked out of teh shop with the baccy under his arm.

The shift leader wasn't interested in tracking him down, as 'he could be anywhere in the airport and we don't know where he's going'. Bugger.

'But hold on!' thinks I, 'he bought an iPod. With a credit card. For which purchase he had to present a valid boarding card.'

All I had to do was find teh transaction on the till, print out a copy receipt, and we have his name and flight number. Job done.

Two hours off work talking to some nice policemen, a huge pat on the back from management, and the idiot who paid £100 for an ipod and stole a £20 pack of Golden Virginia and £15 worth of all-butter shortbread gets arrested.
( b3th Not shit. Not mod., Thu 13 Oct 2011, 16:00, 5 replies)

I thought it was a simple question
Science teacher at college wants to demonstrate the theory of black holes in the fabric of time and space with the following:
1 dustbin
1 bedsheet
1 decent sized stone
4 luckless individuals

Teacher places dustbin upright. Gets unlucky 4 to hold sheet (fabric of space and time) over the bin. Places stone (very heavy planet) in the middle of the sheet and over the bin. Gets unlucky 4 to walk towards the bin and orders the class to observe the planet falling through fabric of time and space leaving a black hole in its place. Simple. Theory demonstrated.

I asked, “What’s pulling the planet in a downward direction?”
Science teacher looks at TitanLX and slowly shakes head as poor dim-witted TitanLX just doesn’t get the whole thing.

My conclusion is that the whole ‘fabric of time and space’ is utter twaddle and I won’t be swayed otherwise.
(TitanLX, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 16:00, 4 replies)

Scissors handles
You know how one handle hole is small and round, and the other is a longer oval? I was well into adulthood before I worked out that one was for your thumb and the other was for the rest of your fingers.
(lonelybadger, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 15:57, 7 replies)

You do see baby pigeons, this is what they look like:

( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 15:55, 5 replies)

James Blunts - You're Beautiful
It doesn't make sense, he's cocky coz he's 'got a plan' but then he isn't gonna see her again and he 'doesn't know what he'll do'... what about the plan? will we ever hear of his plan? twat.
( Ya What Skiddlyboop, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 15:42, 9 replies)

Why do birds suddenly appear
Every time you are near?
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 15:41, 15 replies)

everyday things that have mystified me for far too long
* what do Japanese people eat for breakfast?

* How does your mobile phone alarm work if you've got it turned off on standby?

* where do our souls go when we are asleep?

* why do Italians have to talk so much?
( bigmeuprudeboy is using powerpoint or paint...have MERCY, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 15:34, 5 replies)

What do blind people see when they dream?

( Extinct Jesus Dossier "...I think it counteracts Hitler's magic...", Thu 13 Oct 2011, 15:31, 4 replies)

On Get Your Own Back
Why, why, WHY did it matter how high up the parents got, before they were plunged into the slime?

Still totally bewilders me. Someone told me it's 'to get a bigger splash', but then surely the kid would want a smaller splash so that they don't get slimed, too?

:-/
(Sivvus trolley collision in the fruit aisle led to a jam, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 15:22, 3 replies)

Does anyone else make up stories about their neighbours?
For instance: two doors down from me there is a woman with the cleanest house I've ever snooped through a window at. The floor is always spotless, the furniture looks unused, and she is always, ALWAYS sitting watching TV, with her husband reading a newspaper. I've never seen the husband move, even to change page.

I've come to the conclusion that her husband was quite messy, and alongside her clean streak she must have some kind of taxidermy lair in her attic.
(Sivvus trolley collision in the fruit aisle led to a jam, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 15:16, 4 replies)

Loosely related...
When I was studying English at University, a lecturer once gave us a 30 minute elaboration of her theory about the significance of the ghost in Hamlet, as a manifestation of Hamlet's inner strife. Apparently, it's a figment of his imagination. A projection of the vengeful side of his personality.

So I put my hand up "how come several other people see the ghost in the very first scene of the play, then?".

I had deducted, remarkably, that the ghost was actually an effin' ghost.
(SnowyTheWereRabbit the Leporid from Hell, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 15:16, 5 replies)

Who ate all the pies?

(Bear Pookie The Frankly Challenged. Halloween is coming to town., Thu 13 Oct 2011, 14:32, 14 replies)

Magic disappearing van keys trick
A few years ago I was locking the back doors of a Mercedes Sprinter Van I was using for work. After locking the door, I accidentally dropped the keys and immediately looked to the ground to pick them up. Only thing was, they weren't there! I looked under the van thinking they may have ricocheted off my foot but no keys under the van. I went into the (still unlocked) cab to release the handbrake thinking they may have gone under a tyre. After pushing (with help) the van forwards and backwards, no keys were found. Remembering that I had heard the noise of keys hitting something I looked at the back bumper but no keys there either. The van was parked in a large hotel car park with no other vehicles nearby, no kerbs or drains, just tarmac as far as the keys could have gone. It felt as if Jeremy Beadle was going to appear as part of some new weird gag show and I walked off actually hoping he would be there as the alternative was that I had slipped into a parallel universe where the only thing different was that those van keys didn't exist. I went for a cup of tea in a nearby cafe, troubled but determined to solve the mystery. After half an hour of ringing work mates explaining my problem and worrying that I'd gone mental, I walked back to the van with a view to searching everywhere again one last time. As I traced the route the keys would have taken from door lock to ground, my eyes passed a dark object halfway down the door (otherwise known as the magnet that hold the door to the side of the van when it is fully open) with the keys firmly stuck to it.......

I tried (and still do try) to recreate the 'mid air door magnet key snatch' with no success whatsoever and I challenge anyone with a 1999 Merc Sprinter to do it also.
(byevad Bored sig:, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 14:32, 9 replies)

An Apt Location For A Dull Story
After waiting for 20 minutes or so watching train after train trundle off to Hammersmith I was able to deduce that none of the trains went to South Kensington from Baker Street anymore and that the Circle line was no longer circular.

I hate you London, you could at least change the signs. Harrumph.
( Dervel OTBC, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 14:29, 1 reply)

Les villes Frenchoise
This has mystified me for years...no, let's be honest...decades. Why do we (i.e. certainly me and I 'm sure a lot of others) pronounce 'Paris' to rhyme with 'Harris' (rather than 'Harry' with the emphasis on the second syll...oh, you know what I mean), when we seem quite able to pronounce nearly all the other French places the same way as the French?
( sponge monkey is knitting himself, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 14:26, 15 replies)

how come black people...
... live in africa where it's really hot and black absorbes heat. and white people live in cold places where it's cold and white reflects heat...??? I MEAN COME ON GOD YOU TIT
(men boles Benea, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 14:26, 11 replies)

I Love My Job
It is about as close to being a police detective you can get, without having to actually be a policeman and have to wear a uniform and work shifts and get thumped by shoplifters etc.

www.calmis.ca.gov/file/occguide/crimanlt.htm
(theremin put the lotion in the basket on, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 14:20, Reply)

3-2-1
Anyone old enough remember the final bit of this quiz? This was where five sketches were performed, and then a rhyme was read out to the contestants as a tortuous and convoluted clue as to which prize they could win. They then had to discard certain clues in order to win the star prize of a brand new Mini Metro or something. If they were really unlucky, they would go home with a brand new dustbin. The poor fuckers. Well, at the tender age of ten, maybe eleven, I worked one of these out. Straight away. It was obvious. "Get rid of that one, it's the flippin' bin."

My smugness at my Holmesian ability to sniff out a crap prize was compounded when the unfortunate contestants did, indeed, go home with dusty bin. I think my mother had never been so proud of me as she was then.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 13 Oct 2011, 14:09, 11 replies)

The meaning of life
Some people go for years trying to figure it out, and never get close to an answer. Others find solace in books and parables written many thousands of years ago, for societies completely different to what we find ourselves in today. Thing is, it's breathtakingly simple. You don't have to be Socrates, Kant or Martin bloody Smith from Croydon.

There is no meaning to life- none whatsoever. But it isn't as bad as all that. The fact there is no meaning to our short, brutal existences other than passing on our genes means that we have the freedom to make one up for ourselves, whether through devoting our lives to helping others, having a family, or simply having as much fun as possible. We've only got one life, might as well use it in what way seems best to us.
(The Luggage is haunted..., Thu 13 Oct 2011, 14:08, 8 replies)

Why do nice girls hate me, and what's all this downy hair growing on my chest?

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 13 Oct 2011, 13:55, 10 replies)